


Chips, Fries, & Jagabee

by OrphanText



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Potatoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 08:44:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12009171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText
Summary: Kuroba Kaito, heard muttering to himself much later in the privacy of his own room: "Oh, fry me a river."





	Chips, Fries, & Jagabee

**Author's Note:**

> This author really wants to try some Jaga Pirika of the Hokkaido Potato Farm brand which is basically still under king of potatoes Calbee company anyway.
> 
> I combed through this once for mistakes. Hungry no beta. Play nice.
> 
> *I loved how this finished on the same day as my fic blog's birthday except I wrote the whole thing like, 8 times?? That wasn't fun.

It is hot enough out that when Saguru had taken a single step out past his front door, he had nearly turned around and gone back in immediately, braving Tokyo’s public transport be damned in this weather. The family car - Baaya’s car, really, God save your soul if you as much as left a grimy fingerprint on it - was still in the workshop for repair work, and Saguru doesn’t think it’s an over exaggeration if he said he would die of heatstroke if he walked to the nearest station (which was, for the record, fifteen minutes by foot and therefore not near at all). 

His phone was in his hand. It wouldn’t be difficult at all to send a text to the group chat begging off sick and staying home in his air-conditioned room to watch the rest of the documentary series he’d been hooked on. Squinting at the cloudless sky, he considers his options.

Point to consider: There is no telling that the rest of his friends wouldn’t simply call off their plans to come bother him under the convenient excuse of taking care of the sick, drawn more by the lure of his air-conditioning units than out of a genuine concern for him.

Point to consider: His friends are detectives (with the sole exception of Kuroba, who simply doesn’t want to be a detective).

Point to consider: Kuroba isn’t going to let him hear the end of it if he ever finds out.

Hakubas are not raised to be cowards.

He calls a taxi.

::

“ - thought we  _ agreed  _ on this - “

“Shut up, Kuroba.”

The sound of heated arguing stops Saguru in his tracks, pausing out of sight near the traffic mirror around the corner. It’s rare to hear Hattori this pissed, his accent noticeably more pronounced when his focus is directed elsewhere. Rarer, still, when he realises that he is arguing with Kudou of all people. A fat tabby emerges out of the water cool shadows of an elm, and winds about his ankles mewling while he wonders if the world as he knows it is ending.

To delay the inevitable - them turning their hot tempers onto him for making them wait in the hot sun for ten minutes past their agreed meeting time - he digs into his pockets for spare change and considers the various cold drinks on offer from the vending machine next to him. 

“ - is objective.”

“Says  _ you _ .”

A string of unintelligible words from Hattori quickly follows, Saguru scratching gently under the tabby’s chin with a fingertip as he fishes for the cans of drink out from the machine slot. 

“ - wouldn’t hurt you to say nothing - “

“I suppose there is a good reason that we don’t meet up all that often. It’s just too bad we’re friends. But like attracts like, hmm?” Giving the cat one last affectionate pat on the head, Saguru straightens up from his crouch just in time to hear his own name being mentioned. Best face forward, he hurriedly steps out from where he had absolutely not been hiding around the corner and calls out to his them. Kudou is the first to spot him from where he is sitting on the low bench, expression one parts relieved and two parts pissed. 

“You’re late.” Kudou states flatly, snatching the can from him when he offers one to him. “What took you so long?”

“I got lost switching lines.” Saguru lies smoothly, distributing the rest of the drinks. “The car broke down, so I had to resort to public transport.”

“There is a lot of condensation on these cans.” The soda fizzes over the rim the moment Kudou cracks the tab open, sticky sweet liquid spilling over his fingers to wet the concrete at their feet. Unbothered by the accusing look directed at him, Saguru smiles insouciantly. 

“It’s a hot day.”

Kudou looks unimpressed with his excuse, but seems willing enough to let the issue go without further challenge on his end. Saguru has long pegged Hattori to be one easily appeased by food, which leaves Kuroba to watch him thoughtfully, mouth pulling up into a lopsided smirk when he catches Saguru considering him.

“Punctuality is a demonstration of character, mm?” He falls into step next to Saguru as the group shuffles back into the sun, Kudou in the lead with his phone and map. “You probably should walk up front with Kudou.”

“With Kudou? Why?” Immediately suspicious, Saguru narrows his eyes at Kuroba. “As for my lateness, consider today to be an exception.” 

“I’ve never had high expectations of you, if that’s what you are worried about. You’re always at your worst around me.” Briefly, so quick he could have missed it, honest concern flashes from beneath Kuroba’s usual vexing display of vapidity. “With how unsafe Tokyo is these days, I had worried that something had happened to you.”

Quiet, the distant blare of passing traffic as they wound their way from one building to the next, more concerned with staying beneath any possible shade than efficiency. Each time Saguru thinks he had gotten used to Kuroba’s capriciousness, he knocks him back off kilter. Figures. “I doubt they would pick someone with as high a profile as I keep.”

“All the better for publicity.”

“For a fast track to jail? Undoubtedly.” The smirk softens into a smile, and Saguru pretends that he doesn’t see it. “I heard the lot of you arguing earlier, while I was getting the drinks. What happened?”

The way Kuroba hesitates is mildly concerning. “Let’s just say that some people have strong opinions about potatoes and leave it at that. I don’t want to start another argument.”

“I’ll have you know that we can hear you loud and clear up front here.” Hattori gives them both a dirty look from over his shoulder, one that Saguru immediately deflects towards Kuroba. “Not exactly subtle, Kuroba. And just so we’re clear: I wasn’t the one who started the argument.”

“That’s not - “

“You’re blaming me, now?” Kudou cuts in sharply, Kuroba’s attempts at diverting the topic away from the proverbial minefield swept clean aside. “If you didn’t insult me in the first place - ”

“Which I did  _ not _ .”

“Ask Kuroba, then.“

“I’m uninvolved.” Kuroba says quickly. “I don’t know anything. I plead for my right to remain silent.”

“You had to bring my prefecture into this.  _ You _ .” Hattori jabs a finger into Kudou’s shoulder, the other immediately slapping the offending hand away, and oh, Saguru can sort of see where this is going. “It was uncalled for. Even as a joke, you should have known better.”

“Perhaps when you know your potatoes and stop insulting my eating preferences, I will.” 

“What’s this about potatoes?” Saguru had no idea Kudou was this passionate about potatoes. Or Hattori, for a matter. Is there a new food trend going around like hay fever that he has yet to catch wind of?

“It’s really stupid, if you’re asking me.” Careful not to draw any attention from the arguing pair, Kuroba falls back a step and keeps his voice low. “They were having a discussion about the best kind of potatoes to make fries with because Kudou visited some potato farm in Idaho. It turned to a discussion about the best kind of fries one could ever eat, and as you can see, they are still having a disagreement over shoestring and soggy Mcdonald fries. I’m this close to leaving them for a park.”

“Fries?” Glance back towards the front, Hattori and Kudou both pushing on into each other’s spaces and trying to stare the other down, and then Saguru finds himself grinning as he deliberately raises his voice (to Kuroba’s horror). “What do you mean, fries?”

It draws the attention of Hattori and Kudou, as expected, Kuroba hunching down and muttering,”I’m really going home.”

“Fries,” says Kudou, a frown creasing his pretty face. “Like - “

“Oh! Chips! You meant chips. Sorry, I was a little lost back there.” Saguru says brightly, in the tone he usually reserves for entertaining grandfather Hakuba, who often has many opinions about who Saguru should love and what kind of job he should get and what he could do to better the Hakuba name. “You really can’t compare potato sticks to chips. Chips are the better deal, although you can’t get any decent ones in Tokyo, more’s the pity.”

“Chips,” Kudou repeats weakly, the first to recover from the aghast silence Saguru had put them all in. “Chips aren’t fries. That’s… different.”

“Chips.” Saguru says firmly, dialling up the same I’m-a-dumb-foreigner act he had seen from Jack countless times. “Aside from those, I also like Jagabee.”

“That’s a different can of sardines, Hakuba.” 

“A different can of  _ worms _ .” Hattori corrects, Kuroba sniffing at the correction. “Chips are… okay. Chips. I’ve never had an actual chip.”

“Are chips a relative to the steak fry? Or - what I’m really curious about is this thing called a chip butty.” Anger sufficiently derailed, Kudou looks thoughtful once again, to everyone’s relief. “Do you actually eat those things? Or do they simply exist inexplicably, like fortune cookies in China?”

“I saw it once on a menu in an English pub… “

“Jagabee?” Kuroba, clicking his tongue reprovingly when the attention has clearly been redirected elsewhere to safer topics, the corners of his mouth upturned into a half smile. “You can’t solve everything by playing the gaijin card every time, Gaijin-san. They’re going to figure it out eventually.” 

“What, that I hate chips?” Saguru feigns ignorance, mischievous. “Preferences can change.”

“And the fact that you’re born and raised in Tokyo?” Kuroba cuts him a look, fondness and exasperated rolled into one, and he doesn’t complain when Saguru takes hold of his wrist, pulls him close:

“You,” Saguru says, and his voice is quiet with repressed laughter. “Are the only one who knows.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had a whole separate fic planned for the thing where Saguru is actually born and raised in Japan for HakuKai, but I need to work my way through all my WIPs. Can people send me pics of corgis and labs while I do that?
> 
> *Note / headcanon: Heiji used to tutor Kaito in English over webcam because Kaito's English is abysmal as compared to the rest of the group.
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading that.


End file.
